The Adventures of Maria Sioux
by thylacine
Summary: A girl from 21st-century Earth mysteriously comes to Middle-Earth and meets the fellowship *gag gag gag* This is a humorous piece, intended to be a parody of traditional "Mary Sue disrupts canon, shagging Legolas in the process" fics.
1. Chapter I: Fall into Hollin

Maria Sioux opened her eyes.  This was a lot harder than usual.  Like trying to pry molten taffy off a hot sidewalk.  Greenish light assaulted her retinas.  She squinted and sat up, which sent sharp pains from the back of her skull all the way down to her tailbone. "Ow," said Maria.  She rubbed the back of her head and tried to stand up.  She failed, tripping over the cuffs of her jeans and whacking a low-hanging branch with her forehead.  "Ow," Maria repeated.  She rubbed both the back and the front of her head.  "Where the hell am I?"  She straightened her cropped Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt and tossed hair out of her eyes.  

She seemed to be in a deep scrubby thicket.  The trees were huge, some almost as big across as a car, and none of them smaller around than she was.  The leaves overhead were so thick that everything had a dim greenish cast.  Beneath the trees were the occasional patch of high tangled bushes, and the rest was thin grass and weeds.  It was cold, and she shivered in her t-shirt and drew her arms around her.  

"Whoa.  What happened?" she asked to no one in particular.  The last thing she remembered, she was in study hall.  It was hot and quiet in the classroom, and she was reading this book her friend Kylie had got her.  It was by a guy called Token or something.  Evidently it was based on a movie.  Maria hadn't seen the movie, but Kylie said it was really good and there were all these hot guys in it, so she was reading the book.  It was kind of boring, and there weren't any hot guys yet—only this really long thing about short people and birthday parties—so she started to doze off.  The heat and the droning of the fluorescent lights overhead drew her eyelids down, drew her shoulders forward onto the desk.  She half remembered a feeling of falling, or whooshing, like the drop of a roller coaster.  And then she had opened her eyes in this place, and her head really hurt.

"I must be dreaming or something," Maria said.  But she had never had a headache in a dream before.  And she could see and hear and feel every detail perfectly: the rough texture of the bark and the clods of dirt on the ground; the sound of the twigs and branches, scraping and creaking in a thin breeze; a scent in the air, earthy and somehow a little bit stale.  It wasn't like a dream at all.  Dreams were vague and shifting and without detail, and this was very clear.  Had someone slipped her drugs or something, wiping out her memory?  Maybe she hit her head and got amnesia, and then wandered into the woods.

She decided that if she walked long enough, she'd probably hit a road or something.  Anyway, it was chilly, and there was no point just sitting there and waiting until it got dark.  She picked a random direction and started walking. This sucked.  What day was it, even?  What if she was out of it so long that it was Saturday already, and she had missed her date with Tyler?  Tyler was a junior.  He could be kind of an asshole sometimes, but he was really cute and popular, and she had been looking forward to the date for like almost two weeks.  Forget about it, she told herself.  The first thing to do is figure out where the hell you are and get back home.  Mom is going to be so pissed at me, she thought.  And worried, too.  I wonder how long I've been gone.  Maybe they sent the police out looking for me.

She kept tramping through the woods.  It wasn't all that hard, because the trees were so big and old, and if she avoided the bushes there was enough room to walk between them.  She didn't see the edge of the woods yet.  This was really weird.  There weren't any big parks in her town, were there?  The only parks were like, grassy areas with a few picnic tables and a jungle gym.  She must have been walking for like twenty minutes now.  She looked at her watch.  The hands didn't move.  "Shit."  It was sterling silver—it had been a birthday present from her Dad.  She shook her wrist, but still nothing.  Maybe she broke it when she fell, or whatever.

Maria decided to take a break, and sat down on a fallen log.  What if the park went on forever?  What if she had ended up in the wilderness somehow?  What if she kept walking and walking and starved to death or something?  Or froze, more like it. (She rubbed her arms briskly, but it didn't make her much warmer.)  What if some crazy person came along and raped her and killed her, and no one ever found the body?  That would suck so bad!  

A small movement to her left made her startle and hold her breath.  Oh, it was a rabbit!  A little brown rabbit!  She had never seen one before in the wild, just in pet stores and on TV and stuff.  It was really cute.  It sat up and twitched its ears, sniffing curiously at the brisk forest air, then hopped forward into a small patch of sunshine and began to nibble on a pink flower.  She stayed as still and quiet as she could, not wanting to scare it.  Every now and then it would sit up and look around, but then decide that everything was safe and go back to nibbling again.  The rabbit finished eating the flower, hopped forward, and an arrow was suddenly through its head, in its eye, sticking out its HEAD Oh my God and the rabbit quivered and slumped forward and she screamed and fell backwards off the log.


	2. Chapter II: Rabbit Soup

She scrambled up and crouched behind the log, then peered over it, wide-eyed.  She screamed again.  A tall blond guy was about three feet away, pointing another arrow right at her face.  She tried to scream a third time, but all that came out was a sort of raspy whistle.  The man was breathing hard, his eyes scared, but fierce.  His looked her over quickly but carefully.  Then, seeming to come to a decision, he let the bowstring in his hand slacken, and softly said something in complete gibberish.  

"Uh, what the... ug—you—" she stammered nervously in response, not managing to make any more sense than he had.  His eyes narrowed in confusion, and suspicion.  Before she could blink, his hand was around her wrist and he was pulling her up over the log in a single move.  He was amazingly strong for such a skinny guy.  He set her on her feet in front of the log and stepped away a couple of paces.  He said some more stuff in gibberish; the tone of his voice was questioning, yet firm.  "Blah?" he was saying.  "Buh blah blah blublah, ah blah blah lablah?"

"Um... I don't understand what the hell you're saying.  Do you speak _English?" Christ, maybe I got into another COUNTRY, she thought.  She noticed now that he __was dressed sort of weird.  His hair was long, like a girl or a hippie, and he had on a long greyish-green shirt and pants, and—she noticed nervously—a big knife strapped around his waist.  Something about his face was strange, too, but she couldn't figure out what.  "Um.  Hablas espanyol?" she tried.  She sort of sucked at Spanish.  The guy cocked an eyebrow.  He murmured something to her in a soft, clear voice, then grabbed her wrist again and started pulling her forward through the forest.  "Hey!" she screamed.  Suddenly he was behind her, one hand was around her mouth, and there was something sharp poking at her neck.  He whispered something in her ear.  She didn't understand whatever language it was he was speaking, but it was pretty obvious he wanted her to shut the hell up and let him take her where he was going.  Oh my God, she WAS going to be raped and killed, by this weird crazy guy, in another country!  No one would ever find her, no one would ever know what had happened to her, no one—she was being pulled along amazingly fast, and had to stumble and run to keep up.  The guy seemed to leap over roots and weave around bushes without even looking around him, and several times she tripped or almost got her eye poked out with a branch.  After a few minutes she could see light through the trees, open daylight instead of the even green she had been surrounded by.  They were by the edge of a clearing.  In a depression in the ground, beneath the trees, was a group of people near a small, low-burning fire._

There were a few kids sitting cross-legged by the fire, chattering in gibberish (This has _got to be another country, Maria thought.  Either that or everyone here is insane).  A couple of adult men stood a few feet off, looking across the clearing at the landscape and discussing something with stern expressions.  A few feet away she saw a pony with bundles on its back, switching its tail and nosing at the grass.  Everyone had weird clothes, kind of like people she had seen going to a Renaissance Faire.  As the blond hippie guy came closer, dragging her behind him, the kids by the fire stiffened in alarm.  One grabbed the arm of the kid next to him fearfully.  The two men spun around.  One of them drew himself up and took a step forward, his eyes keen.  The other pulled out this huge SWORD and hissed something to the hippie gripping her wrist._

The hippie said something back, probably, "I found this chick in the woods.  We're going to have some fun tonight, if that's okay with you, Fellow Creep.  Just send the kids back home to their mom and hand me the gag."  Maria tried twisting away, but he held on effortlessly, not even breaking the flow of the conversation.  The first man said a few more things to Hippie, then Sword Guy growled angrily and waved his sword about.  She shrank back behind Hippie.  Then one of the kids piped up.  Everyone started to bicker back and forth.  

The first man, the taller one not waving the sword, actually seemed to be kind of on her side.  At least, he was looking at her a lot less threateningly than Sword Guy, who as far as she could tell wanted to kill her and cut her up into bits and pieces, and possibly do nasty things with the bits and pieces.  Hippie seemed sort of sympathetic towards her, but suspicious too.  The kid was totally on her side.  He was a sweetie.  He stood up and turned towards them, gesturing placatingly towards Tall Guy, and went on at length in a soft imploring voice.  Tall Guy, who seemed to kind of be the leader, thought for a moment, then nodded to Hippie, who led her over to the fire and gestured for her to sit down.  "Uh.  Thanks," she said, and sat.  Maybe she could run away when they weren't looking.

The hippie pulled out the dead rabbit from somewhere and handed it to one of the kids, the one that was kind of fat.  The kids gave cries of delight and thanked him, or so she guessed by their voices.  The fat kid took out a knife and started to skin the rabbit.  Ugh, poor bunny.  The kids were staring at her, even the fat one, as he cut the rabbit into pieces and dropped it into a small pot over the fire.  She stared right back at them.   Stared all around, in fact—at the holly bushes leaning over the fire pit, at the woods behind her in the growing dusk, at the landscape ahead barely visible through the ragged treeline.  Hilly and somewhat barren, with hazy clumps of trees scattered all the way to a range of mountains in the distance.  The sun was setting, and the peaks were touched with red.  

One of the kids spoke to her, kindly it seemed, and offered her a metal cup.  Soup?  It smelled pretty good, and she noticed she was hungry.  The three adults had sat down near the warmth of the flames, and everyone had a cup in their hands.  They laughed and talked softly, but they seemed a bit uneasy, and kept looking around as if they expected someone to arrive.  Well, Maria thought, staring at her cup, if they were all eating the soup, it couldn't be poisoned, right?  She sipped at it.  Mmm, it was good.  Oh my God, she realized, I'm eating the rabbit!  Poor bunny.  Oh well, there was nothing she could do about it.  And they'd probably get mad and stab her or something if she didn't eat their soup.  


	3. Chapter III: Uneasy Waiting

Aragorn was troubled.  All the company had been glad to reach Hollin, which the Elves had called Eregion in the days they dwelt there.  The weather had been milder, the country less bleak.  He could see the traces of the Elves in the landscape, could still feel their wholesome influence on the land, though they had left for the Havens long ago.  Yet his uneasiness had only grown.  This country was too empty, and too silent.  While the company rested after their meal, the first hot meal they had enjoyed for many days, he had called Legolas to him.  The elf's senses were sharper than his, and perhaps the land would whisper secrets to him that it had not divulged to the Ranger.

Legolas had slipped away—and returned dragging a human girl.  She appeared human, at least, though she was clad strangely.  He had grasped his sword-hilt instinctively.  Boromir, beside him, turned and brandished his own blade.

"Who do you bring here?" Boromir hissed in alarm.

"A young woman, or so it would seem," replied Legolas.  An argument ensued.  Boromir expressed the fear, shared by others of the Fellowship, that the girl was an agent of the Enemy sent to betray their presence—either a human, or "some wretched creature" ensorcelled to appear as one. Aragorn thought he could be right—but Gandalf had disappeared, as he was wont to do; he urged the Fellowship to wait until the wizard had returned to give them counsel.  After some discussion—Frodo, Aragorn was interested to observe, was outspoken in his defence of the girl—they agreed to refrain from killing her until Gandalf arrived.  

After supper—rabbit stew—Gandalf had still not shown up, and Gimli was missing as well.  He had gone off to find some hillock, to get a better view of the Misty Mountains, Frodo said.  Legolas went to look for the dwarf, and Aragorn turned his attention to the girl.  He tried speaking to her in Westron, the universal tongue, but saw no comprehension in her face.  He had noticed her hair was yellow, like the Rohirrim, so he tried some phrases in Rohirric (though as a maiden of Rohan she should have known Westron from birth).  The girl shook her head in nervous apology and murmured something in her own tongue—one he did not recognize.  It did not sound like Dunlending, nor like Drúedainic—but he attempted to speak to her in both, although his Drúedainic was very rusty. No result.  Legolas had already tried both Quenya and Sindarin.  Out of desperation, Aragorn tried them again, with still no result.  The halflings looked on with interest.  

"Perhaps she speaks Dwarvish," suggested Frodo.  "Or Orkish."

"Perhaps," said Aragorn grimly.  "But I do not know Dwarvish, and Gimli has disappeared.  And I dare not utter the Black Speech in this place." He glanced up at the sky, as though he feared something from above might hear them.  Thin clouds obscured most of the stars.

"Perhaps she speaks no tongue at all," said Boromir.  The fire had burnt low, and he was staring into the coals.  "Perhaps she is a conjured spirit, or transformed beast, who takes the form of a woman and is controlled by the Enemy."  Frodo shivered.

"And perhaps she is not," Aragorn protested.  But Boromir's explanation made more sense than any others he could think of.  He certainly hoped that Gandalf would return soon.  

The ranger looked up as Legolas emerged through the trees— without Gimli—and motioned him away from the fire.  Aragorn glanced towards Boromir, but he seemed lost in thought, his eyes on the flames.  Legolas beckoned again, more urgently, and moved to the edge of the trees.  Aragorn joined him there. The elf's face was hard.  

"Something strange is happening, Elessar.  I returned to where I found the girl, then tracked her path backwards.  It was almost too easy; she made no effort to disguise her trail.  Then—"  He seemed uneasy.

"What did you find?" 

"That's just it.  I found nothing.  One moment her trail was clear as a team of horses, and the next—there was nothing.  Nothing but a depression, as though she had fallen from a great height.  No footsteps led towards it—there was only her path away, which I had followed.  Not a trace of man, elf, dwarf, orc.  Nothing but the forest animals, and those tracks were scant and old." His eyes drifted East to the Misty Mountains, below the stars.  "I can think of nothing but that she was dropped from above by some great creature, or that she was made to appear in mid-air.  Whatever brings her here, I cannot imagine it bodes us well."

"No, it cannot.  As you know, something about this place has made me uneasy, ever since we arrived." said Aragorn.  He told Legolas of his efforts to speak to her, how every language he tried had been met with dumb incomprehension.  "The girl seems guileless enough, but something about her disturbs me."

"Yes," said Legolas darkly.  "She speaks none of the known tongues.  It is very odd."

"That is indeed suspicious, but I was thinking of something else."

"That she is clad so strangely?"

"No, not that."

"You mean her arrival, then.  The way she appeared seemingly out of no-where."

"No," Aragorn frowned.  "Though that is perhaps the most suspicious thing of all."

"What then, Elessar?"

"I sense... a vacancy behind her eyes.  An emptiness in her very mind."  Legolas's eyes widened in recognition.

"Then you have felt it too?"


End file.
